Afternoon Tea
by sf
Summary: Walter decides that Integra needs some spice in her life. (To be taken with a pinch of salt. One shot; complete.)


****

Afternoon Tea   
By sf 

PG-13   
Beware the Bug of Oddity. 

__

For my beloved teacher. I tried XP. 

--

Work existed.

The older memos lay neatly in the in tray, dormant but not dead. The newer ones -- and there had suddenly been a whole slew of them -- crawled over the edges and flooded onto the table, creeping inexorably across the desk. 

Integra picked up a random piece of paper scowled at it. Then with a quick flick of her wrist, she sentenced it to the rubbish bin. 

To be sure, the latest load of mail was more interesting than the standard updates on how a vampire was terrorizing some obscure village in the middle of nowhere. There had been a sudden flood of demands for Alucard's head, preferably on a silver platter, several marriage proposals, and one angry note from the neighbours about the howling of hellhounds getting on their nerves. 

There was a letter from Anderson. It was in a pink envelope, and the wax seal was in the shape of a heart. 

Integra flung it with unerring accuracy into the bin.

"For a quiet afternoon without undue interruptions and ... _spam_," Integra growled. Several fliers flew beautifully into the bin, which was starting to overflow.

There was a quiet knock, almost as in response. A click of the door knob, and Walter slid noiselessly into the office, a tray balanced on one hand. 

"Ah, Walter," Integra nodded. 

"Time for a break, Sir Integra," Walter said, laying the tray down. His tone was gently admonishing. There was a stack of letters beside the teapot. "Drafts for the Round Table's demands and the marriage proposals," Walter indicated. "All that is required is your signature."

"Thank you."

"And..." Walter coughed discretely. "As you requested, I have _advised_ Alucard to abstain from interrupting your work."

"Really." Integra sat back, her expression brightening. "He does act like an attention starved dog, some times. How did you convince him?"

"By the simple expedient of tying his coffin shut with wire," Walter replied, absolutely deadpan.

"Brilliant, Walter. What would I do without you?"

"Find another butler, I suppose," Walter replied. "Enjoy your tea, Sir Integra." And he exitted as quietly as he had entered.

*

Walter shut the door behind him, and continued down the corridor. If his step was a little quicker and more lively, no one was around to comment.

He retrieved a small, empty vial from his pocket, and discarded it in the trash.

*

It was his custom to return one hour after tea had been served, to clear the utensils. He returned a little earlier today, but Integra failed to remark on the discrepancy in his usually immaculate timing. In fact, she seemed to fail to register his presence at all.

"Sir Integra?" Walter asked as he slipped through the door, then stopped dead in his tracks.

The curtains had been drawn. The office was normally shrouded in shadow, but now sunlight streamed in through the window and glinted off shimmering golden hair. The slender beams caught a reflection in Integra's glasses, causing miniature rainbows to dance in the lenses. And Integra herself...

She was not working. With one elbow propped on the table, her chin was cupped in her open palm. She stared off into the distance, icy blue eyes gone soft and reflective.

__

Like the child she was, ten years ago...

Walter coughed discretely.

Integra glanced around sharply, her eyes wider with innocent surprise... 

...and she blushed.

"Is everything alright, Sir Integra?" Walter inquired discretely.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just taking a break," Integra replied, fumbling at her paper work. Several documents slipped from her grasp and slide onto the carpet. 

"I'll get them," Walter volunteered, sweeping forward to retrieve the stray sheets. As he handed them back to Integra, he glanced into her eyes.

And for a moment, his gaze was caught and held, lost in a sea of blue.

With an effort, he glanced away. "There you go."

Integra didn't take the documents. She was still staring at him. "Walter..."

He glanced back. She _was_ blushing. 

"Walter, I..." then she was leaning forward, close enough for her breath to tickle his face. "I've been thinking about something." The smoky mixture of Earl Grey and cigars swept around him, intriguing, captivating... intoxicating. 

"Yes, Sir Integra?"

"Integra will suffice." 

"I really don't think this--"

"Hush." A finger to his lips. "Did I ever tell you..." she stared into his eyes. Then she shook her head minutely. "Nevermind." And before Walter could reply, he felt her lips brush his.

"Integra--"

Then her chin was on his shoulder, her hands sneaking into his waistcoat. In the slight chill of the room, she was a pleasant warmth. Paper shifted as she leaned forward, documents scattering to fall onto the desk.

And Walter smiled, a tiny smile which might just have been called smug.

Integra leaned back again, and once more, he felt himself being drawn into those wide, dreamy eyes. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was, away from the yoke of responsibility and the burden of--

--then her lips met his, and thoughts were swept away.

When Integra pulled back _-- just where had she learnt to do _that_ with her tongue?_ -- Walter's head was spinning from the blood rush or the lack of air, or both. _It worked. Amazingly, it worked_...

A finger traced his jaw, a gentle caress that sent little shocks down his nervous system. He hadn't quite expected this, but--

"And now, you can tell me exactly what you put into my tea," Integra's whisper seered through his thoughts. 

--the caress abruptly became an iron vice that snared his chin. 

Walter jerked back, a denial on his lips. Something resisted, and he heard the scrap of wood as he lost his balance and tumbled backwards. It was then that he noticed that his wires had somehow latched themselves to the desk. It wouldn't have been difficult to free himself, except that his view of Integra had somehow been replaced by the view down the business end of her 9mm. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he denied furiously.

"_Really_." A hand reached down and hauled him to his feet. He glanced at Integra's face, but the earlier ... vulnerability ... had vanished, replaced with frigid contemplation. In her eyes, the fires of fury raged. 

Still keeping the pistol trained on him, Integra reached into her jacket and deposited several odd devices onto the table.

"With someone like _Alucard_ in the household, it's wise to take precautions. Still, I never expected you..." Integra stared at him for a moment, then gestured at the devices. "Poison detector. Hallucinogen detector. Fangirl detector. And ..." her eyes narrowed, and her gaze became downright steely. "...an _aphrodisiac_ detector."

Walter arranged his features into a suitable expression of shock. "There must have been some mistake in the kitchens--"

"The best thing about you, Walter, is that _you can't lie_," Integra snapped, her temper fraying noticably. "Now before I _shoot_ you..."

"It was a simple... a very mild one," Walter said hurriedly, conceding defeat. "I... well..." words failed him, and he sighed. Casting a disappointed gaze at the teapot, he decided on the direct method. "Integra, ever since you were young... you're beautiful. You've grown into a fine woman. And surely..." he shrugged.

"You're old enough to be my _father_, Walter," Integra scowled.

"I'm a child beside your father," he pointed out. "When your father was--"

"--point taken," Integra cut him off. 

Walter shrugged, making a discrete move towards the wires. The pistol twitched, and he hurriedly aborted the attempt. "Do you know why Alucard has been... making advances... as you call them?"

"For the same reason that you are?" Integra suggested.

"Well, not exactly. He wants to turn you into a vampire. Fortunately -- or unfortunately for him -- you never let him get close enough to attempt that."

"Not that he could do anything with the seals in place," Integra pointed out. 

"We have never actually put that theory to the test," Walter countered. Integra blinked at him, and he could see wheels beginning to turn in her head. 

"There is only one way to dissuade Alucard," he continued, trying to keep his tone as reasonable as possible. "Tying his coffin shut is only a temporary measure. He will be furious when he awakes, of course, and we cannot keep him shut in there forever." He paused, studying Integra's expression.

"Spit it," Integra ordered.

"It's simple," Walter replied. "In order to become a vampire, you must be a virgin. By logical extension, therefore, if you are not..."

"...I should fire you," Integra said.

"I'm really not as old as I look," Walter said. "And it's preferable to a complete stranger..."

"True." Something flickered in Integra's countenance. Walter looked for acquiescence. He met with dry amusement instead.

Integra leaned forward again, and the smile that she bequeathed on him held nothing of humor in it. "Actually, you almost succeeded."

"I did?"

"Two mouthfuls of tea. Two rather large mouthfuls, I might add."

"Ah..." he didn't like Integra's smile at all. Her hand dived into his pocket, and emerged with the remainder of his wires. 

"I always did like these," Integra said contemplatively, watching him like a hawk. "So useful, you'll agree."

"Integra..."

"Don't struggle now. It'll make it worse." She vanished behind his back.

"_Integra..._"

"Oh." She reappeared for a brief moment, and very slowly, drew her tongue across the barrel of the pistol. "Did I mention that I _love_ guns?"

"_INTEGRA!!!_"

"This was what you wanted, Walter. Don't complain."

***

Alucard was in a sulk for ages. Eventually, however, he returned to his usual pursuits of tearing throats out and eating the odd freak or so.

Walter became the very model of the perfect, _proper_ butler. He stayed away from Integra's office as much as possible.

Seras never understood why Walter retreated hastily whenever Integra smiled at him.

Nine months later, the Hellsing mansion was full of activity, but outsiders never found out why.

And somewhere in a remote Asian country, a child who could have been Integra except that he was dark haired (and a he) gurgled happily in his foster father's arms. Later, he would take up a specially blessed katana and devote his life to killing demons, but that was fifteen years in the future...

_

Finis.

_

I'm not a WxI fan. It's just that I can never resist a dare. XP   
The kid is a character from another series. The similarity was striking. Sample pictures at (remove the spaces) 

split-infinity.org / helicon / isshin.jpg   
split-infinity.org / helicon / isshin2.jpg   
split-infinity.org / helicon / isshin3.jpg 

Don't bother telling me that it was horrible. I know. ^_____^;; (My only defence is that I don't write romance fics... ^_^;;; And this wasn't meant to be remotely serious ^_^.) 


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